Dynamics
by lavellanpls
Summary: For the prompt: "Companions react to Inquisitor/LI" Solas and the Lady Inquisitor are an item. Their companions wonder how the hell THAT happened. Well, friends...( ʖ )
As with most any of his private affairs, Solas kept their relationship discreet. Furtive glances in hallways; fleeting touches; stolen kisses during the rare, transient moments when they were truly alone. His time with Lavellan was precious, scarce—and entirely _his._

The Inquisitor, apparently, had other ideas.

They were ambling through some forgotten corner of the Hinterlands or another, on the hunt for a renegade Templar at Cassandra's behest, when Blackwall veered suspiciously close.

"I have to ask," he said, and nodded ahead toward Lavellan. "How did you manage that?"

Solas bristled. "Excuse me?"

"You," he prodded, "and the Lady Inquisitor."

Up ahead—and conveniently out of earshot—Lavellan marched with the Seeker keeping steady pace at her side. Blackwall, meanwhile, waited expectantly for a reply. With a resigned sigh, Solas relented. "I hardly see how that is your business."

A burst of rude laughter signaled Sera's approach. "Oh, get off it already. What, did you cast some freaky spell on her or something? Slip a love potion in her tea? Come on, out with it. _This,_ " she said, and gestured disgustedly to the whole of him, "doesn't get _that._ "

She pointed ahead to Lavellan, who'd taken hold of Cassandra's hand and was presently gleefully dragging her toward a patch of elfroot.

Blackwall only offered a shrug. "Maybe he's got a great sense of humor."

Ahead of them, Vivienne abruptly laughed, earning a withering glare from Solas. He only barely resisted a curse. "Something to _add,_ Enchanter?"

"No, dear." She didn't bother looking back to answer. "I'm quite positive you'd rather not hear what I have to add."

Sera, meanwhile, was persistent. She kept up pace beside him, brow raised in contemptuous awe. "Is it an elfy thing, then? Got to be elfy. Did you convince her the future of your race depended on you two banging bits? Bet you're all _about_ that."

He shot an icy glare her way. "Is that what _you_ value about the Inquisitor, Sera?"

The archer turned an abashed shade of red. " _Pisshead,_ " she spat. "What do you two even have in common, 'sides your ears being stupid pointy?"

This time it was Varric who offered help. "Leave them alone; maybe they complement each other." He waved a hand above him, miming a banner. "Apostate and warrior, rift mage and reaver, magic and a really big axe… It's a dynamic. A weird one, sure, but it counts."

Solas cracked a wry smile. "Ever the poet, Master Tethras."

"In all seriousness," he insisted, "I'm happy for you, Chuckles. A little baffled, sure, but still happy."

"Thank you."

"Well I'm not buying it." Arms crossed, Sera regarded the elf with a wary frown. "Did you bribe her, or something?"

The previously scattered group suddenly seemed to draw in closer around him. Solas gave a dismissive roll of his eyes. "Is it so hard to believe the Inquisitor may simply enjoy my company?"

"It is when she's got loads better options all tossing themselves at her, yeah."

"I suppose 'better' is objective."

"Better's _better_ ," she argued. Then with a smirk added, "I know the Commander's sure been making eyes at her. And I bet _he_ doesn't get all judgmental disapprove-y at her, either."

Before Solas could properly process the sudden, hateful burst of _fury_ —and subsequent urge to cast a fireball directly at Sera's smug face—Blackwall interrupted. " _Alright,_ enough of that. Maker. Sorry I asked in the first place. It was just a passing thought."

"Maybe he writes her poetry," Varric speculated aloud, regardless. "…or she writes him poetry? Honestly, I haven't quite pinned down the dynamics yet. But you'd be amazed what a sappy enough sonnet can do."

"Yeah," Sera scoffed, "and maybe Quizzie's just _real_ into that whole 'mopey arsehole' bit. You know. In case she gets too many fun people around her at once; got to have someone terrible around to even it out."

"Maybe she likes the challenge," Blackwall guessed.

"Give it up," Sera insisted, and unceremoniously whacked him in the arm. "You've got to be doing _something_."

Solas glanced her way. Without a word, he raised two fingers to his mouth in a V, stuck his tongue between them, and slowly, deliberately licked up.

Blackwall feigned an abrupt cough that almost immediately devolved into a choking fit. Varric exaggerated a delighted gasp. " _Chuckles…!"_

Up ahead, he heard Vivienne loudly _tsk_.

Sera just cackled.

" _I take it back_." She landed another punch to his arm, still giggling. "I get it. _She's_ getting it. _Hah!_ You get it, because…? Oh, that's _too_ good."

A sudden, ringing " _Hey!_ " halted them in place. Up ahead, Lavellan stood before them with a frown. "…there are four bears over that hill," she announced. "And they are all mad at me. I'm sorry. Assistance?"


End file.
